


Ongoing Professional Attraction

by Ayngelcat



Series: Prowl and Magnus [1]
Category: Transformers Generation One, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Crack, M/M, Masturbation, Medical Procedures, Premature Ejaculation, Sticky Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 06:49:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2841908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ayngelcat/pseuds/Ayngelcat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a sequel to professional Attraction, and for all those that appreciated that: Happy Christmas!</p><p>TFP Ultra Magnus sees G1 Prowl again - and needs a few 'adjustments' from TFP Ratchet.</p><p>*Warning* Please heed the content in the tags.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ongoing Professional Attraction

Even thinking of Prowl’s superb white frame made Ultra Magnus tingle all over, caused reactions in places that until he had set optics on the mech, he had not experienced in eons….

The Commander sighed. Despite being against his usual protocols, it seemed their association was going to become – a little less than purely professional. But Magnus would not - _could not_ \- let it do so unless he endured Ratchet’s ministrations today.

Ultra Magnus steeled himself, took a few deep intakes. He didn’t like that he had to do this, but it had to be done – and without distractions. So he ignored the impending warnings about another Predacon attack, the confused looks because _surely Magnus could not have any more important duty than this.._? and strode purposefully to the medbay.

Somebody else could deal with the Predacons for a change.

“Ah Commander! Welcome to medbay!” the medic was far too cheerful for Magnus’ liking. For Ratchet, anyway - and given the somewhat serious state of affairs that the Autobots were in, not to mention his own predicament.

“Ratchet…” the Commander nodded curtly.

“Now then, I understand that you…”

“Yes, I believe I have adequately explained the problem!” Magnus had no wish to repeat himself. The first time had been embarrassing enough.

“Of course!” Ratchet smiled knowingly – and Magnus did not much care for this either.  “Please instruct as to where you would like me to sit,” he said matter of factly.

“Oh yes, of course – I’d like you _lying_ on the medberth there…”

There was no need for further wasting of time. Ultra Magnus crossed quickly to the waiting berth. “How would you like me positioned?” he asked.

“On your back will do just fine. Now – if you’ll excuse me for a few moments, I’ll just have to mix a small concoction, and prepare some monitoring equipment. “ Ratchet laid a hand on the Commander’s arm. “Say – try and relax. Trust me! Prime has these tune-ups all the time.”

Magnus shifted uncomfortably. He had not wished to be informed of that! “Yes well – if you could proceed expediently doctor, that would be appreciated. I will comply with whatever medical requirements are deemed necessary.”

Magnus didn’t like the chuckle that emanated from the medic either as Ratchet left the room.

 

Once Ratchet had gone, he gazed around. He supposed there was something reassuring about the spotless white walls and sophisticated equipment; certainly medbay was in a good orderly condition, no matter how much the Autobots had had to make do.

Impressive. It made Magnus feel a little better. He resigned to commend the medic. For now, however, his mind drifted again to the reason he was here today: The Autobot enforcer from Earth’s 1984: designation _Prowl._

Although it was most certainly not the best idea to do so in current circumstances, the Commander could not help but back to their last few meetings...

 

It was on the fifth occasion that Magnus had been through the time portal that he and Prowl had – connected – somehow. Admittedly, they had enjoyed a midgrade – but then they had conversed professionally enough. However, so impressed had Magnus been by the impeccable mechanism that he had felt the urge to  - _kiss_  - Prowl before he departed, and had done so. The memory had lingered long after his return to 2013.

And Magnus had to admit it – he had entertained a few – fantasies. But -he had thought - that was clearly what they were, and not how it was to be. Because it had not been that way _the next time_.

That time, Prowl had greeted him formally, and then taken him on a tour of the Ark. Strolling the corridors, they had perfunctorily discussed the subject of Insecticons - a few of whom it seemed existed in 1985, but of a very different type to the ones from Magnus’ time.

Fascinating! So much so that there had simply been no room for other distractions – which was, in fact, exactly how Magnus had decided he liked it, and exactly what he admired so much about Prowl. They had parted this time with a handshake – as was far more appropriate, and Magnus had been relieved – if just slightly disappointed.

Yet that disappointment, plus the lingering feel of Prowl’s hand in his from the shake that had lasted definitely a little too long had etched itself into Magnus’ mind.

 

Back in his own time, Magnus had awoken from recharge in a state that – well – frankly he hadn’t been in for as long as he could remember.  He had immediately relieved the charge of course - in an expedient and effective manner - and that had settled his systems back to normal, but he had not been able to help a little anxiety from seeping out at the notion of meeting Prowl again. What if this ‘condition’ came upon him in the enforcer’s company?

And then it had! for on the next visit, another tour of the Ark had resulted in an introduction to one Red Alert, who evidently was in charge of security. Professional though the mech had seemed – if a little nervous – Prowl had revealed certain aspects to his character that were less than commendable.

“He has developed an attraction to the enemy,” Prowl had explained. “With our Starscream – who he was recently forced to spend a night. It is – regrettable.”

“Indeed!” Magnus had retorted. He knew exactly what would have happened of any of his soldiers had even _thought_ about such a thing in his time. “But I trust you have implemented measures to deal with this unhappy state of affairs?” He had absolute confidence in the enforcer.

Prowl had looked, for the first time, a little uncomfortable. “It is difficult,” he had said.  "Our Prime has formed an opinion that in this instance, matters are best left to run their course.”

Ultra Magnus had opened his mouth and closed it again, not knowing quite what to say,  unable to believe that a leader – a _Prime_ of all mechs – could exhibit such complacency in the face of such blatant flouting of duty. He had instantly felt very sorry for Prowl.

But the enforcer had turned to him, and Magnus’ spark had reacted sharply when he saw that the mech wore the same expression as he had on the day that he had kissed him.

“Sometimes there is an attraction that cannot be helped,” Prowl had said. “I imagine it is most difficult when it is to an enemy. It is hard enough when…”

And he had turned away. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I should not have raised the subject of Red Alert’s activities. It is not something with which you would have wished to be appraised.”

“No indeed…” but then Magnus had again not really known what to say. He had touched the other lightly on the arm, aware of the other’s increased intakes,  a buzzing of static under his fingers, the high charge apparent.

His own charge had risen sharply and he had felt suddenly light headed. An overpowering urge to take the other mech in his arms had swept through him. Prowl had looked at him, and he had seen immediately in the other's optics that Prowl wanted exactly that too - desperately.

At the same time, he had become aware of the existence of an open and apparently empty storage room just to their left. He had glanced at it and Prowl had nodded. Within seconds they were behind the closed door and he was kissing Prowl again, deeply, passionately - his circuits brimming with charge as node after node awakened in urgent arousal.

And Prowl had responded. Delighted at the other mech’s enthusiasm,  Magnus had kissed him deeper, and allowed his hand to feel down the sides of Prowl’s torso. The revelation of sensitive points, the squeak of the other’s armour loosening as his fingers found seams had sent more charge cascading through his already overfilled systems.

Prowl’s hand had stroked at his back, then ventured on to his aft and Magnus had growled, pushing Prowl backwards against the closed door as his hand found it’s way down between Prowl’s legs and his spike pressurized to a state that – well – that it hadn’t been at for quite some time until thoughts of this very mech had brought such urgent need for relief.

“My apologies,” Magnus had gasped. “This is another instance of appalling  and uncharacteristic  forwardness!”

“I know it is unprofessional,” Prowl gasped. He sounded as though he was having trouble articulating anything at all.  “But the fact is  - I cannot keep you from my mind, Ultra Magnus, and I have recently been dreaming of this moment. I confess – I want you. However you wish me to have you.”

“Oh Prowl…” and Magnus’ energy field had flared before he could stop it, his spike cover had retracted, and he had so much wanted to enter the other mech, and he had felt down and to find Prowl’s valve already open...

He had slid a finger in and it had felt so good, and at the same time, Prowl’s hand had closed around his spike and his charge had soared…

And it was all too much. Ultra Magnus had overloaded copiously over the Autobot enforcer, and whilst the spasms of relief were wonderful, they were accompanied by a horror and disbelief. Had he, Ultra Magnus, Autobot Commander, really shown such an _abysmal_ loss of control?

“I am so sorry!” He had barely known where to start. “I mean I  - I don’t know what to say…” he had gripped the other’s hand, impressed beyond words that Prowl, although venting heavily, had not pulled away or given any indication that anything was out of the ordinary at all.

“Please Prowl - forgive me. That was an unspeakable display!” But Prowl had simply extracted a spotless rag from an arm compartment, and wiped himself down.

“As a matter of fact, I found that - very sexy,” he said coyly. “The only thing is, I would not mind, Commander, if you could possibly relieve my own charge? I could not help but notice that you are very good with your fingers.”

“Of course!” It was the least Magnus could do.

But it never happened. For there was a noise then as of somebody trying the door. “I’m sure it’s in here!” piped up a small voice. “And I’m sure this wasn’t locked last time we were here.”

Prowl took an immediate step back, completing his clean up with impeccable speed. Magnus mirrored his abilities, rapidly retracting his spike and adjusting his armour.

“Some of our Minibots,” Prowl whispered. “They use this room to store their artifacts. I am afraid we must continue this discourse at a later date.”

Once again, Magnus had had nothing but the utmost of respect for Prowl’s extreme self control. The mech must have been seething with charge – and indeed, his door-wings twitched with what Magnus had come to realize was a frenetic quality indicative of such a fact. Yet when Prowl opened the door to reveal two small mechs - a red and a yellow -there was no trace of arousal as he calmly saluted them.

“Bumblebee, Cliffjumper!” he said tartly. “I don’t believe you have met Commander Ultra Magnus, to whom I was showing this very tidy store room. You are both to be congratulated for your meticulous attention to detail!”

And to give the pair their dues, they saluted, and no trace of disbelief showed on the small faces which was most dignified and – Magnus had realized to his horror  – somewhat miraculous; given that a distinct aroma of ozone was now permeating the small room.

After that, Magnus had realized that the hour was late, and that the spacebridge would activate soon. He and Prowl had had one more moment together...

“Please forgive me!” Magnus had said. “Now I do not even have time to provide you with the pleasure I felt.  I sincerely hope that…”

But Prowl had silenced him by kissing him again – not as passionately as before but in a manner that was somehow deeply respectful and not just erotic. “Think nothing of it,” he said. “As you saw, I am always prepared for any eventuality. But please, Commander…”

And he had whispered on comm. //Please tell me that next time you will remain longer in our presence. Overnight, maybe? For I shall be delighted to provide an environment in which such – urgency – is less likely to be the cause of embarrassment.//

……….

That may be so – but Ultra Magnus had every intention of making it up to his excellent new companion in a manner that would require no effort on Prowl’s part, or need to assist the process.What had happened would not and could not happen again. By the time Ratchet had finished, he would never leave Prowl in anything other than an appropriately satiated condition. Whatever he endured here – it was worth it.

Ratchet had returned. He must have activated something as he did so, for there arose around Ultra Magnus a number if interesting looking machines. The Commander could not help but he a little alarmed. “What are you…”

But Ratchet had that soothing look again. “Relax…” he instructed. “I want you to drink this, and then we’ll have another little chat before we get started.”

“What is it?” Ultra Magnus eyed the cube warily. He had always had a deep distrust of things medics produced for mechanical consumption.

“Just something to make you a little more – open. I gotta say – you’re a tad uptight Commander – and that’s where the problem lies. You need to go with the flow – let what happens happen do I can make the necessary medical adjustments.”

A little later, Magnus did indeed feel more relaxed – in fact, he felt rather good – as his throbbing loins and spike pressed against its constraints was evidence enough. This was, he adduced, not just due to the drink but also to the medical connection Ratchet had just established and the machine to which he was attached that seemed literally to be pumping charge into his circuits.

Even the remote semblance of such a state of affairs would most certainly not ordinarily have been acceptable. But Ratchet was right – this was a medical situation.

Ratchet was looking at the bulge in Ultra Magnus’ codpiece. He raised an optic ridge. “Wanna let that out and give me a proper look? And before we go any further – this is strictly medical with you, Commander. There might be others who I couldn’t promise the same, but with you…” he smiled, “nothing but the purely professional.”

Had Magnus not had the concoction he would have made his disapproval of that fact well known. It was more the kind of thing he would have expected from Prowl’s 1980’s charges than his soldier – medic here! But his need was growing. Grunting a little, he allowed his armour to part and his spike to pressurize. It slid mercifully from its constraints, quivering a little, an attractive curve shaping its large form.

Magnus vented hard. It was only partly a relief, having it out. A few sparks flickered from the tip.

Ratchet made a throaty noise. “You _do_ wanna use that. No wonder what happened, happened! Looks like I’d only just have to touch it and you’d go off like the Iacon explosion of twenty-twenty five seven!”

Ultra Magnus took deep intakes. “That is a very accurate analysis of my current predicament.”

“All right…” Ratchet seemed fascinated by the appendage. He bent this way and that, inspecting it at various angles. “Unusual shape!” he observed. “I can think of a few that wouldn’t mind taking that!”

Magnus resigned himself to the fact that Ratchet probably had a way of ‘putting things,’ rather than being intentionally unprofessional.

“I’m not gonna touch,” Ratchet went on before Magnus could comment. “But I’m gonna add some more charge – see what the levels are that make you blow. That way I can dial everything back to a more sustainable optimum. Oh – and first I’m gonna check your fluid chamber levels too…”

Magnus grunted. His body temp was rising, energon was surging through conduits, and his spike was more pressurised than ever. He just wished whatever Ratchet was about to do he would do it. Thoughts of Prowl crept in and he hastily suppressed them.  In a few seconds Ratchet wouldn’t get the chance to add more charge….

And was it was, a spontaneous power surge erupted forth, sending sparks crackling across his body and over the medic.  “Say - what happened then?” Ratchet asked.

“I thought of – the mech with whom I – you know - look, I don’t think I can hold back much longer…”

Ratchet’s attention was on figures and readings on the machines. “All right – let it go…” and he gave one button on the keypad the slightest touch.

That was all it took.Magnus did. Thrusting his hips up, he overloaded heavily and as he did so, Prowl’s well built form and powerful thighs were much in his mind, and he could not help a sudden vision of the enforcer covered in his fluids. It really had been sexy, Prowl had said so himself…

But coming to his senses as the spasms subsided, Ultra Magnus got a grip on himself.  Sexy it may be, but not acceptable! Was that not why he was here?  “Did you get the information you require?” he asked Ratchet.

“Yeah – I’ve adjusted things and we’ll try it out again in a minute. But in the meantime – that’s one helluva buildup you got there and it might take a while to normalize things completely, even with the adjustments. He gestured to Magnus’ spike. Tell me – how long since you used that last?”

Magnus swallowed. “Before the incident the other day - a good few vorns.”

“I’ve been pre-occupied with work,” he added by way of explanation.

“Seems to me you’ve _always_ been pre-occupied with work. How did you manage before that?”

Again, had Magnus not have had the drink he was not sure he would have divulged this information. But as it was, such data seemed – part of the treatment. “I used to – call up soldiers from the ranks. I would explain what they needed to do to fulfill their duty and being the splendid Autobots they were, they always complied.”

“Sounds like a great solution!” Ratchet sounded far too enthusiastic.

“On the contrary!” Ultra Magnus retorted. “I decided such conduct was – not becoming for an officer of my rank. There was not a repetition after the battle of Ulmius Vecturus.”

“Quite a while back!” Ratchet observed. “Well, it’s time your circuits had a bit of stimulation again Commander – we all of us need that. And if it’s one of those mechs from 1984 well – I’ve seen some of them, I can understand the attraction. Just no cabling, OK?”

Ultra Magnus was suddenly alarmed. Not that he’d even considered _that_ at this stage in their – well – their relationship. He was shocked to find himself experiencing a sharp stab of dismay; which was ridiculous, because wasn’t it enough already that he wanted to do to Prowl - well - what he so wanted to do?

“Word gets around. You forget – we got Smokescreen and Bumblebee there a good deal of the time,” Ratchet chuckled. “Now – d’you think with those two that _anything_ gets left unsaid?”

Magnus sifted uncomfortably. “And why the no cabling?”

“Just not sure of compatibilities. I’ve still gotta run a few tests. But don’t worry – I’m workin’ on that too. You’re not the only one with – interests – in that timeline. Now – you ready for another overload? Let’s see – see if you can hang on as long as possible, whilst thinking about this new mech-friend of yours.”

Ratchet typed at the keyboard and Magnus felt his charge rising. He offlined his optics and imagined it was doing so because Prowl’s hand was on his spike, gently massaging.

Then Prowl was kneeling before him, his legs apart and valve just open, and Magnus was edging his spike in and feeling it close around him, and Prowl was moaning as he filled it slowly, and then he was bucking his hips and trying to hold on but he could not stop the urgent thrusting that was suddenly upon him...

He overloaded hard again, this time hitting the ceiling light which swayed with the force of his release.

“Better,” Ratchet looked impressed. “I don’t really wanna take the setting lower, because otherwise once you’ve had a few more of those you might find it harder to get there – and believe me that ain’t much fun either. So, let’s leave it there for a bit. Now – how about your valve?”

“My – what?” Now that was a part of Ultra Magnus that hadn’t even been semi activated in as long as he could remember.

“Wanna have that in good order too – just in case your mech friend is partial to a bit of spiking himself?”

“Yes of course…” Magnus chastised himself for not thinking of that before, for being so horribly inconsiderate. To Prowl. Again. “Please doctor, apply whatever further ministrations are required,” he said immediately.

………..

It was later on that, feeling a great deal more at ease, Magnus told Optimus Prime that he would be visiting 1984 again on the next spacebridge. “And I intend to remain for a little longer,” he informed the leader.

“Megatron seems to have abated his efforts here for the moment,” he went on, “and have no doubt that I will make it so that I can be recalled immediately. In the meantime, I have formed a valuable liaison which I feel will be of great assistance to our own cause in the future. Sir!”

If he knew more, than Optimus Prime did not show it.  “Of course – take however long you like…” He was, of course, the epitome of dignity and leadership.

However, Magnus could not help having one lingering and although utterly inappropriate thought. He wondered what is _was actually like_ for Ratchet to give Prime a tune up.

~~

tbc


End file.
